


35. Antony comes home early

by glitteredsins, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Antony Starr and Stephen Amell [35]
Category: Actor RPF, Arrow (TV 2012) RPF, Banshee RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), New Zealand Actor RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 06:25:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4554186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteredsins/pseuds/glitteredsins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warnings: none</p>
    </blockquote>





	35. Antony comes home early

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: none

It turns out that 'a couple of days' was being optimistic. Two more days in bed and the doctor hired by the production company signs him off for another four days. Stephen's been doing everything possible to speed up his recovery, the only thing on his mind however, is that he'll have achieved nothing toward his move with Antony. Right now he's pottering in the kitchen, fixing himself a bowl of pasta with veggies, wrapped up in sweats, humming softly to himself.

Getting out of the taxi, Antony pays the driver through the open window, telling him to keep change and have a good night. He slings his carry-on over his shoulder and makes his way up the front path to Stephen's house. He pauses for a second on the stoop, wondering if he should have told his boy he was coming, but it'd be pretty fucking stupid to call from out here so he simply goes ahead and knocks.

Stephen frowns, he's not expecting anyone over, it's getting late and Willa had already done her turn at checking in on him. He pads over to the front door and pulls it open. Only to blink and double take. "Oh fuck!" He breathes, reaching out to pull his lover into the house and push the door shut, then he just...looks, head to toe... "I...you...you're here!"

Antony nods, smiling. "I was able to finish up early," he says, reaching out to touch Stephen's cheek. "How're you feeling?"

"Better," Stephen nods, distracted still, reeling. "I...um...wow," he suddenly grins. "I'm so glad you're home."

"Me too," Antony says, smile widening into a grin as he pulls Stephen in for a hug. "Have you eaten?"

"I was just throwing some pasta into a pot," Stephen murmurs as he wraps his arms around his lover, eyes closed to savour the solidity of him. He squeezes Antony tighter, an unspoken...'I've missed you so damned much'.

Antony hugs Stephen close, not even tempted to move. "You should crash on the couch," he murmurs, brushing his lips across Stephen's throat. "Let me cook."

"Or help me?" Stephen counters, his breath hitching at that play of his lover's lips on his skin. Now all he can think of right now is that he gets to sleep in Antony's arms tonight.

"Sure," Antony agrees, only barely resisting the urge to accost Stephen further. "You can order me around," he adds with a grin.

Stephen laughs and pulls away - reluctantly - "Order you around? That does not compute," he jokes, but he sobers up moments later to press his hand against Antony's chest. He's feeling needy and vulnerable, and not entirely sure how to articulate what he needs - other than having his lover and Sir close.

Fuck. The way Stephen looks at him... " _Are_ you feeling any better?" Antony asks.

"Yeah, sure. I'm tired still, washed out, but no fever and I can swallow again," Stephen tries for a teasing wink as he reaches out for Antony's hand to tug him inside the living room and back to the kitchen. "You know how it is, these things leave you feeling like a limp wash cloth."

"But they've booked you off through the weekend, right?" Antony says, double-checking, concerned.

"Yes," Stephen nods. "They reworked the shooting schedule best they could, because I had some heavy stunt work lined up, and no one wants me doing that unless I'm near on 100%."

Antony takes a look around, noting that everything's exactly where he's seen it before. "Do you still want to move in with me next week?" he asks with a smile. "I can get you packed up while I'm here, or we can push it back if you want." The last thing he wants to do is add any more stress to how Stephen's feeling.

Letting go of Antony's hand he frowns at the questions. "Push it back?" And there's a little - irrational - bubble of panic, because hadn't he said he'd move in when he got his permanent collar? So if Antony's talking about pushing things back... "No, no, please I don't want to push it back..."

"Hey." Antony touches Stephen's arm. "We don't have to push it back," he says firmly. "I'll grab some boxes tomorrow and get you packed. Okay?"

Stephen takes a breath, holds it a moment and then nods. "Yeah..thank you," And then a moment later he's pulling Antony back into his arms and holding him tight, his face pressed into his lover's neck.

Antony wraps his arms around Stephen and hugs him back, as hard as he can without hurting him. "I love you, you know," he says softly. "And nothing's changed. I still want to collar you, I still want you to move in with me. I wouldn't be here right now if you weren't the most important thing in the world to me."

The words were exactly what Stephen needed to hear - he hangs on, merely giving a small nod to show he's heard. His fingers press into Antony's back and he wishes he never has to let go.

"You sure you don't want to order something in and we can just cuddle up on the couch until it comes?" Antony offers, kissing the curve of Stephen's ear.

Another nod, and Stephen presses his lips tight, not daring to speak, fearful of letting out the soft sob he's struggling to hold back. Because he's ashamed at how pathetic he's feeling.

"Chinese?" Another nod from Stephen and Antony pulls out his phone, calling in their usual order to the place they used the last time he was here. "It'll be here in forty-five." His arms still tight around his boy as he moves them into the living room and onto the couch.

Once Antony's settled, Stephen tucks himself up tight against his lover, he's a little bemused at his own behaviour, and he wonders if it's because Antony allows him to be vulnerable without judging him for it - without berating him for being needy. Something Cam would never have tolerated. The more time he spends with Antony, the more he wonders just how healthy his relationship with Cam had actually been.

"Are your friends going to be checking up on you tomorrow?" Antony asks, pressing a kiss to the top of Stephen's head.

"Yeah, after work," Stephen murmurs, his cheek pressed to Antony's chest. He can hear his lover's heartbeat, and he closes his eyes and lets it soothe him. "So you better have some pants on by then, or you'll freak them out," he manages to tease softly.

Antony laughs. "You're cramping my style," he mocks-complains. "You're okay with me being here when they come by?"

"Of course," Stephen opens his eyes and tilts his head to look up. "They know I'm seeing someone, just not who."

Antony smiles at that. "Do we need a cover story for how we met?"

Stephen shrugs. "We met in a bar, it's not a lie, is it?" he queries.

"Nope. I just wanted to make sure we were saying the same thing," Antony murmurs, smiling, watching Stephen. It feels so good to be here with him.

"You have no idea how pleased I am you're here," Stephen whispers, holding Antony's gaze. "I've felt so lonely this last few days, and I ended up questioning all of this...for no good reason."

"Questioning it? You mean having a sir who's away so much?" Antony says softly.

A small shake of his head. "It's not you, it's me," he murmurs, before letting his gaze drop to where the dog tags sit beneath his lover's shirt.

"Meaning?" Antony prompts even though he knows Stephen's sick and he should probably leave it alone.

"You know where this is coming from," Stephen glances up, suddenly irritated at Antony, and in turn himself. "Stephen pretty enough as a toy, obedient enough for a boy, but not good enough to be a partner," he huffs out, "And then you...and all this...and it's just so...perfect." He brings a hand up and rubs over his face. "I should shut the fuck up, I'm worn out, sick, and low..."

Antony sighs and then just hugs Stephen that much closer. "I think you keep forgetting that I love you - and that I've never felt that way about anyone else. So boy, toy, partner, lover, _boyfriend_ \- I don't have any intention of ever letting you go."

Finally Stephen gives in, first one choked sound, then the dam breaks and he's clinging to his lover and sobbing hard. It's the culmination of a week of sickness, loneliness and nervousness at the serious commitment he's about to make to Antony. His life has been turned on its head in recent months...and the stress has simply caught up with him.

Fuck. Antony hugs Stephen close, kissing the top of his head, letting him sob his heart out, his own eyes moist for the first time in years. He wishes he could let Stephen see inside his head, see the truth of his words and his feelings, erase all the doubts his boy carries with him from past lovers, past sirs. But only time can do that.

Finally the tears tail off, the emotional storm spent, and Stephen lifts his head, wiping at his eyes with the heel of his hand. "I'm sorry." He reaches into the pocket of his hoodie and pulls out a wad of tissue which he uses to blow his nose and mop up the rest of the damp on his face. "I just... like I said, I've been lonely..."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Antony says. "You've been sick and I've been away and phonecalls and Skype are a pathetic substitute for having your sir with you."

Stephen's eyes flicker up to his lover's face for a moment and he bites back the _It's not my Sir I missed..._ instead he nods. "Please...please don't think I'm getting needy...or that I'll be any trouble when you go away again," he redirects his angst down a fresh path... reaching for Antony's hand he rubs his fingertips over the back of it. "Because I'm not."

"I know. I'm not worried," Antony says, looking at their hands. "But it's okay to need me. I have Marcus because I need someone I can trust, who I can delegate to when necessary. And if I can't come back right away, I'll tell you but I'll make sure you're taken care of and that I check in more regularly."

"It's okay to need you," Stephen repeats Antony's words, and blows out a breath, a dry tone to his voice. "I had to push that urge aside in the past, so I struggle to gauge what is normal needy, and overly needy," he raises Antony's hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it, before turning it over to place a - lover's - kiss to the palm. "And what part of that is me falling in love with you," he adds softly.

The words steal Antony's breath away. It's been months since he first declared his love for Stephen and while he hasn't been waiting for the same, he has wondered on occasion whether his feelings would ever be returned. "You don't have to worry with me," he says quietly, finally. "I want you to need me. I've spent my whole fucking life avoiding ties, not realizing I _needed_ to be tied to someone until I met you. You're not going to step wrong with this, with us. I promise."

"I really can just be me, can't I? With you." Stephen rubs his lips over Antony's knuckles. "The good, the bad, the irritating?" he manages a smile here. "Tied huh? Tied to each other."

"Yup." Antony grins and leans in for a kiss, cursing softly as there's a knock at the door.

Stephen flops back, watching as Antony pushes up and leaves to answer the door, normally he'd be up, gathering plates, pouring drinks - but he's too preoccupied by the words they've exchanged and his own lethargy.

Coming back, Antony sets the bags on the coffee table and heads for the kitchen. "You want a beer?" he asks, already grabbing plates from the cupboard. "And chopsticks or cutlery?"

It takes Stephen a moment to catch up, he shakes his head a little as if to clear it. "Um, no, no beer, and cutlery please?" he calls back, before pushing up from where he was slouched and starting to set out and open up the food.

Antony brings back plates, forks, a beer for himself and water for Stephen. He settles on the couch beside his lover and hands him a plate. His stomach growls at the smell and he laughs. "I did eat on the plane but I'm not sure it was food."

"Maybe tomorrow we can order in from the club? Spoil ourselves?" Stephen asks as he starts to nudge containers at Antony and then pick at a few things for himself.

"Good idea. We can have them make us some of those salted-caramel brownies," Antony says, digging into everything.

That makes Stephen pause and look up at his lover, a smile curving his mouth. "Yeah, maybe we can," he agrees softly.

***************

It's not late when they decide bed is the best option, only when they step into Stephen's bedroom he pulls a face and plucks at the duvet. "The bedclothes need changing, I've been sweating and festering in here for days, I didn't mind when it was just me..." he glances up at Antony, who looks exhausted. "Two minute job..."

"I'll do it," Antony says, because as tired as he is, Stephen's still _sick_. "Just tell me where the sheets are."

Digging out clean bed clothes Stephen pitches in, pulling off and replacing pillow cases while Antony works on the bottom sheet and then the duvet. It doesn't take long, and Stephen's glad of the fresh bedding - but not nearly as glad as he is at the thought of curling up beside his lover tonight. With the bed done he starts to pull off his hoodie and track pants.

Once again, Antony's put in the spot of controlling his body's reactions to Stephen, urges only increased by a week and a half spent away from his boy. Fuck. He turns, stripping off his long-sleeve tee, his jeans set aside with it, then slips under the covers, stretching out on his back, his erection growing despite his best efforts.

A barely there quirk of his brow and Stephen climbs in beside Antony, flipping lights off to leave just one small low light on beside him. "Must be tough," he murmurs, snuggling up beside Antony, a soft sigh of pleasure as skin presses against skin.

A deep breath exhaled slowly, softly, and Antony murmurs, "What?"

"Having a dick this big..." And Stephen slides his hand down to curl his fingers around said organ. "...that has a mind of it's own," he teases with a smile against warm skin and a squeeze of his hand. "Let me pleasure you..." he offers his voice low. "Just my hand...but let me pleasure you Sir..."

"Oh, fuck..." A soft gasp spills from Antony's lips as his cock kicks up against Stephen's palm and he nods. "Yeah."

That reaction is everything Stephen could have asked for. He presses a kiss to Antony's chest and starts to work his hand, firm, steady strokes, he raises his head then, to watch, to see what his actions do to his lover, his Sir.

"... feels good," Antony murmurs, groaning with every stroke, his cock wet at the tip, his balls tightening steadily. He licks his lips, bites at the lower one, torn between drawing this out and giving Stephen a break.

"Of course it does," Stephen's voice is low, a little rough, as he keeps stroking. "Because I know your body, I know how to pleasure you, more than anyone else, because you are my Sir, my lover...I know your sensitive places, I know how you like me to bite you _just_ so..."

"Mm-hm." Antony nods, rocking his hips now, cock speared through the circle of Stephen's fingers, meeting and intensifying every stroke. "Fuck..."

Dropping his head Stephen mouths over one nipple, sucking on it a little before he employs teeth, then he tightens his grip on the meat of Antony's cock - going after his lover's orgasm with determination.

"Fuck!" Antony gasps again, pleasure crashing over him, his hips snapping sharply as he goes over with a shout.

Stephen can't help the smile at that, his hand heading off the stream of cum down onto his lover's belly, so when Antony's done he simply burrows down under the duvet and does a quick clean up with his mouth. Leaving Antony's dick until last he takes the softening flesh in his mouth and gently sucks it clean.

"Oh, god," Antony murmurs, swallowing hard, his hand seeking out Stephen's head, fingers playing through his hair. "I needed that," he says with a soft chuckle.

Letting Antony's cock slide free from his mouth, Stephen wriggles back up his lover's body. "I know," he murmurs as he settles himself.

Antony smiles. "I love you," he says, pulling Stephen in close.

It doesn't take much, Stephen's tired, but now he's calm, relaxed, because he has Antony's arms around him, he yawns, presses a sleepy kiss to whatever part of Antony that's closest and slides off into a deep sleep.


End file.
